


Just Another Day on the Job

by dela26



Series: A Leopard Cannot Change Her Spots [1]
Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: AU, Dark Elle, Elle-centric Fic, Multi, Psychopathology & Sociopathy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-07-24
Updated: 2013-05-20
Packaged: 2017-11-10 15:18:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/467742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dela26/pseuds/dela26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Perfect manicured red nails tap on the thick window. Brown eyes interlock with blue. Her lips twitch to a smile, his eyes narrow. A shiny new toy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Summary: Perfect manicured red nails tap on the thick window. Brown eyes interlock with blue. Her lips twitch to a smile, his eyes narrow. A shiny new toy.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Heroes. Duh. 
> 
> Author's Note: Elle-centric fic. AU. Elle/Sylar. Current story takes place during Season 1, when Sylar is first captured by the Company after Homecoming. Story will cover Elle - and her interactions with Sylar- over Season 1, 2, & 3\. I'm new to Archive of Our Own, reposting some of my stuff from other fanfic archives. Hope you enjoy. Oh, and I love comments/reviews! ;)  
> Rating: Mature for psychotic, dark themes.

Chapter 1

The sound of a heavy metal door vibrates down the hall. The inmates on level 5 all lift their heads in unison, listening intently. Shiny black spiked heels clank sharply on the concrete floor. Some prisoners attempt to make themselves invisible and unimportant, while the brave and insane ones shout cat calls to the petite blond agent. She trails her fingertips on the walls and windows slowly while humming a strange tune to an unfamiliar song.

She finds herself in front of the usually empty cell and is pleasantly surprised at the new addition. Her eyes are fixated on figure slumped on the cot. She stands frozen in front of the window, memorizes every tiny detail of the new prisoner. A million questions flood her mind - Who is he? How is he special? How much power can he take before he passes out? What does it sound like when he screams? Seconds, minutes, hours tick by and suddenly the prey begins to slowly stir. The beast within her mind screams with anticipation and excitement. She paces in front of the window like a hungry tiger, heels tapping fast and frantic. As she is about to make her move to strike, her attention is suddenly shifted down the hall.

Two agents are yelling at each other. She never bothers to learn their names, they are all the same black suits to her. A brilliant, bright light is blaring from one of the cells. She moves up silently behind them, a gifted ability for one to move so quietly in five inch stilettos.

"Dammit Thomson Jr.!" the heavier one shrieks, shielding his eyes. "I thought you had him under control!"

Elle peers into the window of cell 12, her eyes sparkling like a child on Christmas morning. What was the prisoners' name... Harry, Henry, Hewie... oh, yes. Mmmm. "Howard."

Both agents jump at her voice. Thomson Jr. responds with a raspy voice. "Ms. Bishop?"

"Hey there lover boys," she purrs, "Looks like you got a loose cannon on your hands."

The fat one glares at her, "We got it handled."

"Oh really? Looks like your little human eyes can't stand his shiny power." She giggles. "Me on the other hand, I've had plenty of practice with bright lights." Her eyes flare with her blue powers and she playfully zaps the fat suit. "I'll take care of him."

Ms. Bishop flashes a smirk to the agents and opens the cell door with a swipe of her Company card. Howard is in the corner of the room, brilliant bright light illuminating from every inch of his body. His eyes are closed, he looks peaceful and heavenly. He's got an air to him like he's a god even wearing a gray prison jumpsuit.

"Silly rabbit, tricks are for kids."

"Elle." His eyes snap open.

"That's my name, don't wear it out" her voice is sing-songy. His powers flair brighter but Elle doesn't falter. "That all you got old man?"

She zaps him with her pointer finger and the bolt of blue electricity pushes him across the other side of the cell. Elle does a movie star gasp, hand covering her mouth. "Whoops!" She laughs. "Glowing. How lame of a power is that?"

Howard stands and lifts his head high. "You cannot keep me here forever. No one can control me. I am all powerful." He releases his powers to his full potential, the room is near white.

"Narcissistic much?" Elle responds and begins to skips around the room gracefully even in a tight black pin suit skirt and heels. "It's funny really, a glowing man trying to blind a girl that loves bright sparkles!"

"You've been a bad, bad boy." She suddenly stops inches in front of him. Her voice goes dark. "You should have taken your pills like I told you to."

She releases a strong electrical burst of energy from the palms of both of her hands, forcing Howard to scream and cower to the floor. His luminance falters just enough for the other agents to run in to inject him with a needle filled with green liquid goop. The light levels return to normal in the cell as Howard is unconscious on the concrete. Elle zaps the prisoner harder. The smell the burnt flesh fills the room. Elle laughs and takes aim to strike again.

"That's enough Ms. Bishop, we need him alive." The fat suit barks.

"Oh pooh!" Elle smirks and trails her fingers down Agent Johnson's chest, "Mmm, you're so yummy I could eat you." She throws her head back and laughs at his nervousness.

The agents turn back to the unconscious prisoner, ignoring her. Elle pouts to herself. The fact that the agents do not praise Elle for her help is infuriating. Her need for approval is overwhelming. But she's a good actress, doesn't want to show that the silly men hurt her pride. Elle fakes a yawn, "You suits and glowing boy are boring. No fun at all."

Elle skips back to the far cell, electricity playfully trailing behind her dance.

Perfect manicured red nails tap on the thick window. Brown eyes interlock with blue. Her lips twitch to a smile, his eyes narrow. A shiny new toy.


	2. Chapter 2

Perfect manicured red nails tap on the thick window. Brown eyes interlock with blue. Her lips twitch to a smile, his eyes narrow. A shiny new toy.

The prisoner slowly moves to a seated position on the cot, both hands gripping the edge of the metal frame with such force that his arms are slightly shaking. They both remain frozen and stare at each other for a number of heart beats. Elle breaks eye contact first, scans over the prisoner. Inspects him thoroughly, as if he is an expensive racing horse and she's considering buying.

Elle's eyes become glazed over. She's back into her own inner world, humming a strange tune while dark, violent thoughts fill her mind. Images of pain, burning flesh, and blood darkens her consciousness. Fills her up and makes her feel .... alive. Elle draws invisible hearts on the window lightly with her fingertips.

The prisoner stands suddenly and Elle snaps back to reality. She puts effort into looking innocent and sweet, big doe eyes and pouty lips. Elle's voice is playful and childish. "You and me are going to have so much fun."

The prisoner remains silent, his face an unreadable mask.

Elle cocks her head to the side, blond bangs sweep over her blue eyes. The childish tone is gone, voice low and serious. "You must have done something very, very bad to end up here."

Silence.

"You're going to be so lonely in here, stuck in this gray, concrete cell." Elle purrs. "But, I make my ... rounds here regularly."

Still no response. Elle pouts. She decides to take another approach and waves cheerfully through the glass. "I'm Elle."

Thick eye brows furrow together, a question forming on his face. Elle swears that she sees a glimmer of confusion and sadness in his eyes. His face suddenly grows cold and angry.

"Sylar." he growls, voice thick, raspy, and... powerful.

"Sylar." Elle lets the name roll off her tongue. He's different from the rest. Special.... She closes her eyes, touching the window gently. Elle loves to make the powerful ones weak and broken. Form 'em into a submissive, bloody mess on the floor. The thought tightens something low in her abdomen. Energy is radiating from her entire body. Her breathing is too heavy and fast, meant only to be in intimate, dark places.

She whispers, "I can't wait to make you scream."

"Funny..." his voice now softer, "I was thinking the exact same thing."

She lazily opens her eyes to see him standing right in front of her, only a window separating them. Elle licks her lips. Sylar puts his right hand on the glass, trying to close the distance between them. An emotion that Elle does not understand flashes on his face.

"Agent Bishop." A voice booms over the intercom, breaking the trance. "You are requested for a meeting in the conference room. Now."

The petite blond pouts, hands going to her hips. "Fuck." Her disappointment boils in her skin, sparks radiating from her fingers. But... mustn't disappoint Daddy. Elle was, after all, a Company girl.

Sylar is watching her with such... intensity that it makes Elle hesitate for a split second before putting on her overly confident and cheerful mask.

"Don't worry, we'll have plenty of time to play, Mister Sylar." She leaves a bright red lipstick kiss mark on the window and bounces down the hallway.


	3. Chapter 3

Elle is hidden in the shadows, listening intensely to Bennet and the other agents interrogating him. Can't really understand what they are exacting talking about, the concrete walls muffle the conversation. But she can hear the screaming. The sounds of a harsh beating. Wishes that she is able to watch. Wishes more that it was her alone in that the cell with him. But, unfortunately, Elle has been instructed to stay away- far, far away- from the new prisoner. Daddy says it is for her own protection- he is too dangerous, even for someone like Elle. Elle was the only one excluded from the Company-wide meeting on the new prisoner. Strict orders were given to the other agents to prevent Elle from interacting with him. She wasn't even allowed access to his file on the computer, the system indicated that she didn't have high enough clearance. The more they say no, the more she wants him.

Sylar. The word is like honey on her tongue.

When other agents speak about him in the hallway, they stop talking mid-sentence when she draws near. But she's managed to pick up a few, interesting rumors. Serial killer. Telekinesis. Slices off heads. Ability thief. Formerly known as Gabriel Gray. Elle savors every ounce of information she can gather. Much more fascinating than the usual trash that comes through the Company.

A loud shriek echoes from the prisoner's chamber. Cerulean electricity unconsciously flashes from Elle's eyes. Glasses has him first. Gets the privilege to break down her toy. Elle has never been very good at sharing. Sylar was going to be damaged goods before she gets to taste him. Almost makes her less interested in him. Almost.

Even though the sounds of pain and suffering were not coming directly from her hands, the experience is still intoxicating. Music to her ears. Makes her mouth water, heart speed up. Forces her to slither closer to his cell, maybe get a glimpse of the live action through the window. Electricity pulses throughout her body at the anticipation and need.

Eden suddenly emerges from the cell, huffs to herself and leans against the metal door looking extremely irritated. Elle's body immediately stills at the sight of that woman. The hairs on the back of her neck stand on edge. Elle has never been a fan of Eden, particularly distastes her powerful voice of persuasion. Hates being forced to do something against her will. Elle is a control freak and Eden likes to show that she can take that precious control away. She glares daggers at Eden from the darkness and contemplates blasting her hard enough to make her into a blacken husk of ashes.

"Elle." Her trance of violent thoughts is broken when she hears her name spoken clearly between the muffled sounds of beating and screaming from the cell. Makes Elle go into a near panicked state. Who said her name? Why are they talking about her? Her mind is flooded with a thousand questions.

Five different psychiatrists have pointed to paranoid delusions. But it's not a delusion if people are truly out to get you. People talking behind her back is the least of her worries. Elle knows that others are exploiting, harming, and deceiving her. The gaps in her memories. Being forced to do something against her will. Seeing and hearing dark things that are not real. Rumors of experiments. Hushed voices and cautious glances among the other agents in the hall. Elle is a pathological liar, suspicious and hostile towards everyone. Hard to be honest and confide in others when no one in her life is loyal and trustworthy. Paranoid, sure. Delusional, hell no.

The Haitian calmly exits the cell, face very serious. His presence makes Elle feel nauseous. Eden growls to the man, her voice low and aggressive. "I don't care what the orders are. We've already had documentation of his ability the first time Bennet encountered him. This cell isn't going to contain him forever. With his power, he's... too dangerous, clever. He needs to die. I know you agree with me."

The Haitian silently stares back at Eden. Elle thinks him being mute is incredibly creepy. Elle would love to destroy the Haitian even more than Eden. Not only was he a memory thief, he also has the ability to take away what Elle loved the most. Power. Deprives Elle of her beautiful, blue sparks.

Elle decides skip the peep show now with both Eden and the Haitian lingering outside. They spoiled her voyeurism experience. Determines that she'll be patient, wait for the perfect moment to get what she wants.


	4. Chapter 4

After listening to Bennet beat Sylar into a bloody pulp, Elle's body aches for release. Unfortunately, security teams made up of evolved humans and ex-military agents prevent her from reaching him. Sure, she could kill them all. But... being a Company Girl complicates things. Being an agent is a central part of her identity. Gives her purpose. Structure. Doesn't want that taken away from her. Which means that she is going to have to figure out a way to get what she wants in secret.

Elle is usually a very impulsive person, but decides to take time to plan her course of action. She carefully observes all of the obstacles. Keeps track of the schedules of the agents and guards. Learns the timing of the exact movements of the security cameras. She is determined to calculate the precise, perfect time to strike. He would be worth the wait.

One of the side effects of meticulous planning and preparation meant that he was on the forefront of her mind for every second of the day. Makes her antsy and on edge. She's never gone so long between victims. Usually Elle sleeps like a rock, but tonight she lies on her bed, her mind racing. Insomnia forces her to pace the long, dark hallways in the dead of the night. Elle finds that her body has unconsciously stopped in front of a familiar door. Decides to satisfy her longing with a quick, temporary fix.

Adam has always been a fun toy. She loves that he heals oh so fast. It makes the time she spends with him last so much longer than with the others. Never has to hold back with Adam, he can take her most destructive blasts. His lips taste as good as his stories.

He ignores her as she enters his cell, preoccupied with a book. Adam no longer gives Elle the attention that she once desperately craved from him.

"Have you heard about the new prisoner?" Elle chirps. Adam doesn't look up from the book.

"He's more powerful than anyone else." She purrs as she leans close to him. "Are you jealous?"

Adam shrugs with indifference, his mouth in a half smirk. She continues in a sweet voice. "Jealous, that I have a new favorite? That I'm going to replace you?"

The ancient man glances up, raises an eyebrow suspiciously but remains silent. Her voice grows serious. "If I had a heart, it would be breaking now."

Elle grabs Adam's book and throws it on the ground. Pushes him on the bed and straddles his legs. Intertwines her fingers in his soft, blond hair. Elle kisses him gently on the check, electricity buzzing throughout her entire body. Blue sparks lightly vibrates against his skin.

"I'm not in the mood for your games today, love." His voice is tired. He's been forced into this song and dance for years with her.

"Did I ask for your opinion?" She says painfully slow, voice dark. "Did I give you permission to speak?"

Adam's face is now a mask. He's good at hiding his emotions. Doesn't want to provoke the hungry tiger. Can't show any fear.

She kisses him deep and long, searching his mouth. Unsatisfied, she growls and zaps him hard at the same time from her lips, making him jerk back with force. Elle can taste his metallic blood, the beast screams with delight in her mind. Adam recognizes the look on Elle's face, knows what's coming next. He struggles wildly to get the small blond woman off of him. Elle slaps him hard in the face, laughs when he gasps in surprise.

She strikes again, this time with a full burst of electricity to his chest. The smell of burning flesh fills the room. Elle frowns when Adam doesn't make a sound. He doesn't want to give her the satisfaction. She needs to hear him scream. Elle zaps him again, harder. Smiles smugly when he complies with her unspoken request. Slowly roasts his insides.

"Please, please, no more. Oh god." He's coughing up blood.

The sound of him begging combined with the sight of blood hardens her nipples. Forces her to release an intense burst of blue power. Turns him into blacken ash. The experience is orgasmic. Kills him over and over.

"Fucking sociopath." Adam murmurs before Elle kills him again.

Sociopath. The word should make her feel angry, but Elle doesn't understand or experience emotions in the traditional sense. The only significant states of being for her are pleasure and pain. These two basic elements usually blur into one. It's true what they say... a fine line between pleasure and pain. When she isn't experiencing pleasure or pain or both, Elle doesn't feel anything at all. Nothing. Over the years, she has learned to recognize emotions in others and thus has learned to pretend to exhibit similar qualities that represent happiness, sadness, anger, etc. during times when such emotions are appropriate. She's a good actress. Lies every time she smiles. Nobody knows that she is actually emotionally dead. Hard to feel bad for someone who is suffering when she can't feel anything at all. Lacks remorse. Empathy.

Elle puts on a confident, playful exterior, but she's really empty inside.... but she found a way to make it feel less bottomless. Pain and killing fills the emptiness inside of her, makes her feel whole. Alive.

In addition to being excluded from the fundamental human emotional experiences, Elle lacks the ability to fully comprehend social interactions and norms. The only way she can understand and relate with others is through a hierarchical conceptualization. She has a more …. primal world view. Dominant. Submissive. Alpha. Omega. Much like the social structure of a wolf pack.

Elle gains satisfaction from having power over others. Forces her victims to be humiliated, bound, tortured, and mutilated. A true Sadist. Sylar is definitely an Alpha male. Elle wonders for the first time in her life what it would be like to be the one dominated by another person. Would she allow herself to be submissive? Or would she remain in control? Perhaps she could be both? The unusual thought makes her stop mid-blast.

Adam's skin slowly reforms itself back to its smooth perfection. His face is slack, unconscious. He'll be awake soon enough. But Elle is already bored of Adam.

"You have a morbid sense of fun, Elle." Glasses himself is standing in front of the window, arms crossed with a hard face.

Elle flashes a wide smile at Bennet. Her voice is raw, still relishing in the afterglow. "I really needed to... release some tension." He rolls his eyes at her response and storms off.

Elle has always prided herself on being an outsider... but now... now she feels the need to connect with someone. Elle wonders if Sylar is as empty inside as she is.


	5. Chapter 5

Elle sighs into her mug of black coffee, a headache beginning to form behind her eyes. She's never been much of a morning person. All she wants is fifteen minutes of uninterrupted bliss to consume her caffeine. It's part of her daily routine: Shower. Coffee. Paperwork. Morning victim. Lunch. Meeting with Daddy. Hand out pills. Research potential specials. Dinner. Post dinner victim. Sleep. But since Sylar showed up at the Company, her routine has been a bit...off. And he's only been here less then twenty four hours.

The normally empty break room is packed full with agents of all shapes, sizes, and evolution status. Elle frowns in response to the laughter and positive, buzzing energy. Apparently, capturing a big bad serial killer is good for morale. All of the tables are full of suits drinking coffee, munching on donuts, and blabbing away. Well, all of the tables minus the one that Elle occupies. Although she has been at the Company for over sixteen years, Elle has always been very isolated. A lone wolf. Doesn't play well with the other agents, or anyone for that matter. All of the bubbling noise in the break room is putting a damper on her morning, she likes to drink her coffee in the usual silence. The knot forming in her stomach is a warning sign of a developing irritable state. Such states typically end in somebody getting fried.

At a nearby table, an agent is loudly explaining a story to the rest of the suits. Elle's ears perk when she hears his name mentioned.

"- --Sylar, really sick fuck. I was there at the clean up, blood everywhere. We had huge crowd gathered around that was difficult to manage. I guess the psychopath striked during the high school homecoming."

Homecoming?

Elle doesn't believe in coincidences. She gazes into her black coffee, blocks out the sounds around her and contemplates recent events. On Elle's latest mission, Daddy had given her the solo assignment to spy on Bennet's adopted daughter Claire. The Company had suspected that little Miss Pom Pom may have developed an ability. Apparently, both of her bio-parents are specials. Like a pure bred prize dog, the cheerleader has the genetic jackpot for the blue ribbon. But Bennet has repeatedly reported with confidence that Claire has not manifested, making the higher ups suspicious. They decided that Bennet's word was worth baloney, so they elected Elle to do some reconnaissance.

Elle wasn't particularly excited by the idea of babysitting the cheerleader, but accepted solely on the fact that it would be her first assignment solo. Elle hated that One of us, one of them rule. It was pretty common knowledge that she hasn't had the best track record with partners. Majority of them end up dead. It wasn't really Elle's fault that the agents that made up the one of us are...well, human. Makes them weak, easier to be killed. Elle couldn't figure out why the Company had that silly rule anyways. The Company is all about specials- understanding abilities, tracking evolutions, and occasionally locking up the ones deemed too dangerous to be living amongst the sheep. But one of the founders must have had a weird sense of humor to require agents to be paired up in such an odd way- a special with a normal. Fucking normals. Elle is fully aware that she has a superiority complex, thinks less of the non-evolved agents. Elle believed that perhaps someone high on the chain of command must of realized that Elle is completely capable of handling an operation on her own. Espionage work in a high school seemed beneath her, but at least it was a start to prove her talent at working independently.

Elle never went to high school. Pulled out of elementary school after she had manifested. Elle had missed out on the entire school experience- no slumber parties, algebra class, swim team, or dances. Being cooped up at the Company since for as long as she could remember is probably a significant factor in Elle's lack of social skills. A captive and isolated environment is unhealthy for anyone. Throughout her youth, Elle was surrounded by very serious and scary adults. It was lonely at first, but once Elle learned to control her ability she became friendly with the inmates. They make the best playmates and toys.

Even though Elle is twenty four years old, she had no trouble passing for sixteen at the high school. Being naturally short and petite with an innocent face helped. As part of her disguise, Elle replaced the stilettos for a pair of black Converse shoes, lost the red lipstick, and threw on a black Ramones t-shirt over skinny gray jeans. She was to blend in as just an ordinary student at Union Wells High School. Ordinary. The thought made Elle snort in disgust.

While the idea of a solo mission was glorious, the reality of the experience was extremely boring and monotonous. Elle spent most of her undercover work sitting in the back of the classroom watching Claire-bear pass notes to her buddy Zach. Elle probably doodled a million variations of pictures of her electrocuting Claire. For twenty seven days straight, Elle was stuck in an uncomfortable metal desk contemplating terrorizing the students and teachers during the day and then cramped in a rental car recording the cheerleader's lameo after school activities. Elle thought that undercover work would be much more glamorous and suspenseful. Wishes she was in a James Bond flick~ wearing fashionable clothes, sleeping with handsome foreign men, and best of all- having a license to kill.

The only plus of the mission was discovering the wonders of cherry Slusho. The delicious uber sugary substance helped her get through the boring classes and long stake outs. So addicting, she drank three a day.

Over the span of nearly one month, Elle was not able to acquire any indication of the cheerleader being special, so Daddy cancelled the assignment a week prior to the high school's homecoming game and dance. Wonders what would have happened if she stuck around for another week.

Did Sylar attempt to kill Pom Pom at homecoming? Elle is extremely agitated about being left out of the loop. Everyone but her seems to know all of the details surrounding the Sylar case. Energy circulates inside her body, itching to be released. Needs to get some answers. But she'll deal with this later...after her coffee. Elle takes a sip, savoring the flavors in her mouth.

Unexpectedly, a loud alarm sounds, making all of the suits in the break room jump in unison. Elle remains calm, ignores the flashing lights and sirens. She's still determined to finish her morning beverage per usual.

All of the agents leap from their seats, scampering out of the break room with guns in their hands. Elle can hear someone yelling orders over the alarm in the hallway.

A prisoner is attempting to escape.

Elle stays seated alone in the break room, now irritated by the commotion. Every morning on the job, all she wants is fifteen minutes of silence to enjoy her coffee. Couldn't he have waited until after 7:15?

By the time Elle finishes her morning dose of caffeine, Sylar has killed a number of agents- both specials and normals. Unfortunately for the escapee, the Haitian was on the premises, neutralizing his abilities. The Haitian tends to ruin the day.

Elle stalks down the hallway silently, observing the massacre with a smile. Broken bodies are scattered throughout the hall, blood everywhere. Some are literally torn apart, while others are frozen solid. Quite a beautiful scene. Makes energy pulse throughout Elle's entire body. She knows her skin is softly glowing with blue sparks. Sometimes it's hard to cover up her excitement, especially now with such a landscape reeking of death, destruction, and power.

There is a crowd gathered. Twenty plus agents cautiously hover around Sylar, their guns aimed steadily at his head. The Haitian is standing silently nearby, ensuring that the dance is over. Sylar is laying on the floor, face down. Bennet is on top of him, pushing his knee into the escapee's back while yanking Sylar's arms behind him hard. Sylar is struggling wildly to get Glasses off of him. Another agent plunges a needle into Sylar's arm, fills him up with a strong sedative. Elle is sure that the tranquilizer probably has enough kick to it to knock out five elephants.

Elle is impressed by how close Sylar is to escaping. No one has ever been successful, but Sylar has managed to get the farthest.

"The bastard killed Eden." One of the agents cries out.

Elle raises an eyebrow at the statement. Looks like the Wicked Witch couldn't control him with her evil voice. Evidently, Eden had gone against strict orders and over-confidently used her abilities to command Sylar to kill himself. Got herself killed instead. Silly for a weakling like Eden to think that she could control such raw power.

Bennet cuffs Sylar's hands behind his back. Sylar's lip is split open, blood slowly drips down his chin. Bruises are beginning to appear on his face and arms. He's conscious, but his body is sagging from the immediate effects of the potent drugs.

"Hand cuffs?" Elle laughs. She is leaning against the wall, playing with a ball of electricity with both hands. All eyes drift to her. She smirks at the attention. "You can't be serious?"

"Somebody get Elle out of here. Now." Bennet orders. The other agents shift uncomfortably. No one makes a move, they all know the consequences.

Elle glares at Bennet, annoyance apparent in her voice. "What's your dealio anyways?"

"I don't have time for this Elle." Bennet growls, anger fuming from his entire body.

"Well somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed." Her voice is sing-songy. Bennet ignores Elle and begins barking out orders to the other agents.

Elle's blue eyes slide to her soon-to-be-victim. It's the first time that she's truly acknowledged him during the uproar. For a half second, her aura shifts cold, emotionless. Allows the darkness to briefly peak through the playful façade, gives Sylar a little preview of what's to come. A ghost of a smile plays on his lips. Reveals something akin to recognition mixed with anticipation. Their eyes stay locked as Bennet and the other agents drag him down the hall back to his cell.


	6. Chapter 6

The morning fiasco has caused quite a stir around the Company. Elle is thoroughly entertained watching the suits frantically scampering about the building in attempt to control the situation. Busy little bees, buzzing about the hive. Cleaning up the mess that Sylar has created. The good spirits that were present early in the break room have been completely eliminated from all of the agents. Their eyes are hollow from the shock of the recent massacre of their colleagues and friends. The event has had the exact opposite effect on Elle. She's humming a tune to herself, energy playfully vibrating throughout her entire being. A wide smile is plastered on her face as she's inspecting the bloody crime scene. The expression is almost genuine, representing Elle's closest experience to the emotion of happiness. Witnessing his aftermath and power makes her feel all warm and fuzzy inside. It was like being at Disneyland. Well, at least Elle's demented version of Disneyland- a happy place filled with blood, pain, and death.

Elle considers the view with deep reverence. Takes in the details of the blood splatter vibrantly painted across the walls and floor. Breathtaking. The brilliant design reminds her of the works of the abstract expressionist Jackson Pollock, but this contemporary piece just happens to be manifested from the hands of a psychopathic serial killer. Her eyes drift from the crimson stained walls to the victims. Memorizes the beautiful sculptures created out of the medium of disfigured bodies. The scene fills up her emptiness, that strange longing that exists within her abdomen. Elle finds it somewhat of a shame that his creation, his masterpiece, is being destroyed. She guesses that most ordinary people don't have a similar appreciation for the artistic works of a genius. But knows deep in her dark consciousness that she's not completely alone anymore. One special person shares her twisted idea of fun.

Unfortunately, the response to the recent events has severely damaged all of the work Elle has done over the last twenty four hours. Sylar is no longer contained in his original cell on Level 5. The change is devastating - all of her meticulous planning has gone down the drain. They've moved him to a more secure room. She back to the drawing board and needs to get the ball rolling soon, first by getting her hands on vital information. Squeeze it out with force from an unsuspecting little bee.

Like a wolf watching a herd, Elle's eyes roam over the men and women moving about the Company. Observes each one, determined to pick out the weakest. The clairsentience chick has the beginning stages of the flu. The fat ordinary has a slight limp in his left leg. They all try to hide their flaws, but Elle can see everything so clearly. Her eyes fixate upon the perfect target.

As Elle walks towards the busy herd, the crowd instinctively parts like water to make room. The energy of the crowd has shifted, Elle can practically smell their anxiety and fear. The sheep attempt to keep their distance from her. Provide her an aisle to walk down- like her own personal red carpet, meant only for the powerful and most special. She silently stalks her unknowing target, follows him to the stairway entrance.

Aw. Agent Andrews extraordinaire. He's a special. Though even among the evolved humans, he is still pathetic. A runt in the pack. Used and abused by all of those superior to him. Elle knows from prior interactions with Andrews that he has the ability of technopathy. Elle's not entire sure what that exactly means, but understands that he's a whiz with computers. The ability is not a very powerful tool to use as an active weapon, unlike Elle's glorious blue sparks. But his ability will be useful in helping Elle acquire the information she craves. The skinny twenty-something is struggling with a large box and having difficulty opening the door with his hands full. Elle moves up painfully close beside him, takes in his scent, and pushes the door open for the oblivious man. Andrews mumbles his gratitude and when he glances up to acknowledge the good Samaritan- he sharply hisses in a breath.

"Looks like you're struggling with that big, heavy box. Here, let me help." Elle purrs and takes the box out of his hands easily and sets it down on the ground. Although Elle is small and petite, she is very strong for her size. It's not only her electricity that makes Elle a dominant.

Andrews looks both confused and scared shitless. He stutters out, "Elle....I....um....well...ya...thanks."

Elle takes both of Andrews' hands into her own gently, in an attempt to soothe the jumpy man. Can't have him make a scene and attract an audience. Her voice is sweet, soft. "I need you to do something for me."

"Oh. Um. Actually, I have to run to the lab to put these samples in the--."

"It was not a polite suggestion." Elle cuts him off, her voice sharp as knives. Fuck it. Elle is too impatient, can't maintain the friendly act forever. She grips his hands with force, making him whimper from surprise. Elle doesn't even need to use her ability to scare him. "Your talents...I need you to access the computer and get something that I've been blocked from. The Sylar file."

"Look, all I know is that you are not suppose to be involved. I'm sure they have a really, really good reason for it. " He squeaks, eyes darting wildly.

"And you're going to help me find out why." Elle forces her right hand roughly over his mouth, muffles his cries as she pumps him with a low dose of energy. "If you don't do as I say, I'm gonna to fry your brain so red hot that--"

"Okay, okay." He mumbles under her hand. Elle takes one step back from the scrawny agent, allows the man to drop to his knees. The submissive gesture gives Elle goosebumps from pleasure. Andrews' breathing is heavy, fast. Looks like he is about to hyperventilate. He gasps out, "Oh God. They are going to take my badge for this."

"Better than the alternative." Elle purrs. She forms an aggressive energy ball, brings it up close to the agent's face. The sparks snap loud and quick, forces Andrews to cower closer to the floor. "Death seems a lot worse, honey."

Elle jerks Andrews up and leads him slowly and cautiously to her lair. Holds his hand painfully tight, nails digging sharp and deep into his palms that will leave little half crescent marks filled with blood. When they enter her room, she violently throws him down on the seat in front of the computer.

"Do it." Elle commands. Andrew immediately obeys and touches the monitor. The computer turns on, images and documents flashing fast on the screen. Andrews' eyes look distant, listening and seeing things that Elle could probably never comprehend. Must be a strange sensation to have ones consciousness connected through a computer system. Probably just a strange as having electricity pulsating throughout ones body.

His voice is soft and hesitant, "I am accessing his file now."

"Get mine too while you're at it." Elle quickly snaps. She doesn't want to be kept out of the dark. Needs to be in control by eliminating all of the secrets.

Andrew's eye brows furrow in concentration. "Ok, I have aquired the Sylar file. But looks like it has been... corrupted. "

"Whatever, read what you have on him."

"Case C004. File ID- Subject: Gabriel Gray.***" Andrew's voice is monotone, almost robotic. "Known Alias: Sylar. Unique Ability: Intuitive Aptitude. Evolutionary Anomaly Class: Cerebral. Detail: Gabriel Gray has absorbed numerous abilities from his prey, including telekinesis, ability to freeze items, and possible other unknown para-evolutionary phenomena. Control Index: 76%. Known persons exhibiting similar abilities: Peter Petrelli. Data Analysis: Biological- 50%. Cerebral-95%. Elemen-"

Elle interrupts, her voice irritated. "Just skip over the medical jargon and numbers and get to the important stuff."

Andrew continued. "History: Gray is the son of a watchmaker who carried on his father's trade for several years before being approached for study by Dr. Chandra Suresh, who termed Gray his "patient zero. " Under Dr. Suresh's inadvertent tutelage, Gray realized he had more than one anomalistic ability; in fact, he came to understand that he could absorb the abilities of others. The specific mechanism of acquiring these powers remain unclear, but we understand that it requires the removal of the victim's brain matter. Agent Bennet and Agent Bishop acquired preliminary data on Gray's ability. [Text deleted.]"

"Wha-? Which Agent Bishop? And what do you mean 'text deleted'?" Elle cries out with alarm.

"In regards to your first question, the file doesn't specify." Andrews sighs. "And text deleted is exactly what it sounds like. Someone erased parts of his file."

"Can you look up who changed the file?"

"Hold on. Wait..." Andrews closes his eyes in concentration. "Username: Bennet."

"Glasses himself." Elle huffs. "Whatever, I'll deal with that later. Keep reading the file."

Andrews clears his throat and continues. "With the incorporation of new abilities into his genetic structure, Gray assumed the name Sylar and began killing individuals on Chandra Suresh's list of "specials." A team of agents captured Gray after the Union Wells High School incident. Under Company protection, Bennet and his team will study into this mechanism to determine Gray's precise manner of acquiring abilities from his victims' brain matter. FBI Agent Audrey Hanson and Matt Parkman's investigation led them to an unsuccessful raid on Primatech Paper while Sylar was in our custody. Under observation, Sylar proved uncooperative and an incident with Agent Eden McCain Eden/Sarah Ellis led to her death. Sylar attempted to escape the Company, killing over two dozen agents, but was neutralized. Sylar has been moved to a more secure cell. Orders are to continue to study the subject and keep him alive. Psychological Profile--"

"The company keeps psychological profiles? Since when?" Elle voice is dark, suspicious. Andrews shrugs in response. Maybe Elle had not noticed that section of the files before, she never really reads the paperwork thoroughly. She was always too busy planning the bagging-and-tagging scenarios. Always let her partners do the boring research. The idea of a psychological profile somewhat bothers Elle. She knew she couldn't trust all of those psychiatrists. Lied when they talked about confidentiality. She's now positive that they recorded her sessions, shared the grotesque details of her psychosis and dark desires to Daddy and the other Company hot shots. Elle crosses her arms and sighs to herself. "Continue the file Andrews."

"Psychological Profile: Gabriel Gray's overbearing mother pressed on him the notion that he was "special" and meant for more than his family's middle-class existence. When he failed to live up to expectations, he fell into the family trade as a watchmaker and grew increasingly frustrated with his life. When he began manifesting abilities, he realized he could use them to fulfill his deep-seated desire to be "special" and thus prove his worth to his demanding mother. However, infusion of foreign DNA into Sylar's genome has corrupted his mind and moral compass. He began seeing himself as vastly superior to average people, which gave him—in his mind—the moral authority to kill at will. He became sociopath and singularly focused on gaining more abilities. His desire to be increasingly "special" will surely compel him to seek out additional victims. Extreme caution must be exercised in any interactions with Sylar while he is detained at the Company."

"That's all they got on him." Andrews looks up at Elle, concern in his voice. "But it looks like your electronic file has been erased. Completely."

Elle frowns. "Who deleted it?"

"Username: Bishop."

Damn. Elle is going to have to deal with both Daddy and Bennet later. Needs to focus on her priority. Satisfy the urgent need. An idea suddenly materializes in her mind with such clarity. "So can you control other forms of technology systems, right?"

"Um... yeah." His eyes widen in fear.

"Wonderful. You're going to help me with a little security issue."

Elle places her hands gently on Andrews' shoulders and then pumps him full of electricity to remind him who's in control. Agent Andrews cries out in pain. He's looking pale and sick. Nods his head a bit too fast.

She lightly pats his head. "Good boy."

Elle smiles darkly to herself. The pieces were finally falling into place, her end goal will be reached sooner than she had anticipated. The internal dark beast screams triumphantly with delight. He's going to taste oh so good.


	7. Chapter 7

Elle is sprawled out on her stomach, legs bouncing to a feverish rhythm against the ivory bed. While Agent Andrews is busy doing his computer thing, Elle is trying oh so hard to maintain her patience. Calm the feral, dark beast within. But Elle has never, ever, been a tranquil soul. She is, literally, in every sense - electric. The blue power constantly surges throughout her entire body, impacting the wiring and makeup of her physiology, neurons, and psyche. Her special ability has significantly played a large role into the development of her frenzied, erratic, and wild nature.

Sapphire energy snaps loud and harsh between her perfectly manicured nails. Elle not only lacks natural patience, she is easily agitated. The sound of the suit punching hard on the keyboard causes Elle to involuntarily frown with annoyance. Electricity flashes angrily from her eyes. The lights and electronics in the room flicker as she increases her internal voltage, sparks her energy booming hot in order to drown out the sounds.

Elle sighs at the failed attempt to block out the aggravating noise.

Andrews stops typing and glances over, picking up on her irritation. "It will only be few more minutes. The security system is, well, extremely complex. I almost have it."

Elle rolls her eyes at the comment. This waiting game is killing her. Instead of lying in her room listening to the insignificant worker type away, she could be filling up her cold emptiness with watchmaker's delicious screams.

Sylar's dark chocolate eyes and ghost smile echo within her consciousness, sending strange.... pleasurable sensations throughout her body. Heat spreads between her legs as she reflects on the images of crimson blood splatter and broken bodies, the special presents that he made just for her. Imagines herself showing her gratitude by slowly licking his soft bottom lip, a submissive gesture that Elle has never considered - or fantasized over- until now. She's never met such an dominant, powerful, alpha male. She would love to feel his rough large hands tightly gripping and bruising her delicate neck. Elle needs to feel him underneath her, screaming from both pain and pleasure. Energy vibrates underneath her skin, building up for heavenly release. Elle's fingers tremble with the urge to touch herself lightly. But she balls her hands into tight fists instead, knuckles turning white. Andrews' presence is a buzz kill.

Her need and longing is so incredibly unbearable that Elle decides to distract herself. She knows that if she fixates on him too much, that she may act on her impulsive desires and storm right over to the cell and take the prisoner now. But Elle needs to ensure that all the plans are perfectly in place. And Andrews is the last piece of that puzzle.

She moves her attention away from the fantasies of blood, pain, and sex, and focuses instead on her small bedroom. Observes and describes silently to herself the details of the room. Everything is uncomfortably neat, clean, and orderly. The room would make someone with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder extremely happy. Elle could never suffer from OCD, as it is an anxiety disorder. And Elle lacks any form of worry, distress, or anxiety. The room merely reflects her need for control.

The environment is clinically white, sterile. The pristine room is absent of any decoration or color. Elle does not care such trivial things. Prefers function over form. The place holds no real value. Simply a space to shower, dress, and sleep. She can't really picture her lair all frilly and pink, filled with images of butterflies and unicorns. Sure, she fakes the playful and girly act outside, but within her private quarters she is away from the watchful eyes. Elle does not need to waste her energy here on maintaining the lies and illusions.

Elle's room is not that much better than the prisoners' gray, concrete cells. Elle is quite aware that - in her own special way - she is a prisoner. Unlike the other captives, however, she can come and go as she pleased. But at the end of the day, Elle always comes back willingly to her cage. She knowingly commits herself to the Company. Chooses this life over the so called freedoms of the outside world.

Away from her room and the comforts of the Company, the world is full of complex and strange human interactions that confuse Elle. She can observe and learn the customs, social norms, and expression of feelings. Elle tries to respond appropriately to social initiations and expectations. But she cannot fully comprehend them. It is like being an anthropologist on an alien planet. Most people fake a lot of human interactions, but Elle fakes every one. All she can do is play along at life, and hope that sometimes she gets it right. She pretends the feelings are there, for the world and for the people around her. Who knows, maybe one day they will be. Illusion is everything.

But every time Elle thinks she understands the rules, they change. This lack of insight into human nature makes her feel so alone. Powerless. And Elle's existence is all about power. So she aims to control that what she can understand. Control the prisoners. Control the suits. Control her silly little room.

When Elle is outside of the Company, wandering the streets, she sometimes likes to pretend that she's alone. Completely alone. Make believe a world post-apocalypse or plague…whatever. No one left to act normal for. No need to hide who she truly is. No more lies. It would be…freeing.

A handful of people know what Elle truly is. The prisoners all get a firsthand taste. The psychiatrists scribble frantically on their notebooks during her sessions. Daddy caught on early after he noticed that Elle responded - uniquely - to the incident. The time when she "accidentally" set her Grandma's house on fire when she didn't get want she wanted, killing both Grandma and Mommy. Little Elle didn't shed a tear or show any signs of remorse. Daddy understood that he couldn't stop what Elle was developing into. A Sociopath. Monster. But Daddy believed he could do something to channel it. Use it for good. Made Elle into a Company girl. They trained her to use her antisocial personality qualities for the greater good of the Company. Allowed her to focus that dark, psychotic energy onto assignments, specific targets.

In a way, the Company is Elle's sanctuary from the outside world. It was a place with simple rules and orders, providing her structure and purpose. It made sense.

Sometimes the Company sets her teeth on edge, but most of the time it helps her control the internal chaos.

Elle's life is a strange and careful balance of order and chaos.

"Ok, all done." Andrews pikes up.

"Everything that I asked for?" Elle purrs.

"Yes, yes. Of course. Everything." Andrews nods his head extremely fast.

Elle smiles widely, flashing all of her pearly white teeth. "Perfect."

The agent's entire body begins to visibly shake. Elle narrows her blue eyes suspiciously, speaks painfully slow. "Now. Andrews. When I'm off playing with our favorite prisoner… you're not going to do anything silly, right? Like report to Daddy or Bennet?"

Sweat starts to spread across his face. He squeaks, "Oh no, Ms. Bishop, I, um. Never. No, no. You can trust me. I ---"

Elle is a professional liar and she can immediately pick up when someone else is lying. Andrews is going to betray her. Elle never forgave anyone for anything. A character flaw to be sure, but hell, everyone's got to have at least one. Though Elle doesn't see it as a flaw. More of a survival skill.

"Liar!" Her feral growl cuts him off. "I told you I was going to burn your brains so red hot if you didn't do exactly what I say. I hate to waste a good threat."

Elle strikes Andrews hard in the chest, forcing the agent to fly violently across the room.

"Oh God!" He screams while she blasts him again.

Elle can see his pain. On some level, she can understand his pain. She just can't feel his pain.

"Jesus loves you, too," Elle laughs sadistically.

When she needs to back up her threats, someone writhing on the floor in pain is almost as good as a body. Sometime's its better.

"Evil bitch!" Blood begins to flows out of Andrews' mouth. Mmmm. Blood is thicker than water, and much tastier.

The comment combined with the sight of blood gives Elle a twisted idea. She stalks slowly towards the closet, humming playfully to herself. Andrews is frozen on the floor, afraid to move. Elle opens the door dramatically, like a game show host displaying the expensive prize to the contestants. Her voice is sing-songy. "Voila!"

Andrews' eyes widen at the sight of Elle's private collection of special, dangerous toys. The shiny, black objects within the closest are startling contrasts against the stale, white room. Her favorite game of life is torture. Electrocution is one way to play. Elle loves her indigo sparks the best, but, that doesn't mean that she is not open to other forms of fun. A true sadist, she collects anything and everything that causes pain and suffering. Black leather whips, handcuffs, and ropes hang on the hooks. She opens the obsidian drawers to reveal various types of shiny knives, swords, and guns. Weapons of all flavors.

Elle's fingertips gently caress a large, silver knife. The true way to a man's heart is six inches of metal between his ribs. Sometimes four inches will do the job, but to be really sure, Elle likes to have six. Bigger is always better.

"Oh, Andrews. Please. I'm not evil. Just.... misunderstood." Elle stares him down, allows the darkness to come to the surface. She picks up the knife between her dainty fingers, flashing the large piece of metal to her victim. "And evil."

Tonight's the night. Everything has to be perfect. And Andrews is not going to spoil her fun. While silencing the little man's screams, Elle contemplates what she is going to wear for her date.


	8. Chapter 8

Elle has had a solitary existence in the darkness for a long time. Over the years, her eyes adjusted until the dark became her entire world and she could see clearly. But then Sylar showed up. Turned on the lights and blinded her.

Elle is no longer alone in this world. She has come to appreciate that Sylar is not just a shiny new toy to be used and then tossed aside -but rather he is an equal. A potential rival. It's both exhilarating and strange for Elle to no longer be the lone wolf. The outsider. Elle considers that since he has entered her territory that either the two dominant forces can join together in perfect harmony, or one will need to be destroyed….throat ripped out. Elle's not completely sure which path to follow or even which one she prefers quite yet. She is interested to see how the ending of the story will play out.

Shiny black spiked heels clank sharply on the concrete floor. Elle slowly and confidently moves down the hallway, savoring each step closer to her target. Daddy, Bennet, all of the other silly agents - they are not going to get in the way this time. She's outsmarted them, worked so hard to get to where she is now. Deserves the prize. Of course, Elle knows that Daddy won't be happy and that there will be consequences. But Elle has never been very good at following all of the rules. The only time she obeys the rules is if she can manipulate something out of it. And right now, Elle is above rules. She yields to no one. Elle has a sense of special entitlement, inflated self interest. Sees herself as superior to everyone and everything. Worst case scenario, she gets stuck in solitary confinement for a few months. It's not like it would be the first time anyways. He would be worth it.

She trails her fingertips on the walls and windows slowly while humming a strange tune.

Elle finds Sylar laying on his back on top of the metal bed, hands loosely clasped across his stomach and staring calming at the ceiling. He shows no surprised when Elle abruptly appears out of the shadows in front of the glass window. The howls and cries of the guards were a warning of her coming presence.

He doesn't acknowledge Elle, but rather continues to memorize the imaginative designs on the gray ceiling. The gesture… or rather lack of gesture… makes Elle cringe with irritation. She wasn't sure what she expected from him, but being ignored is definitely not something she's used to. Her narcissism demands attention. Ungrateful son of a bitch- how dare he. After all of the work she has gone through to get to this moment. While Elle taps her perfectly manicured red nails on the window she concurrently flashes her power brightly, creating loud snaps of energy. As if to say - look at me.

Sylar reluctantly obeys and turns his body painfully slow towards Elle. She can see the muscles shifting under his skin with the effort. He moves to lay on his side, head propped up with his hand. He looks comfortable and relaxed, like he is on the beach waiting for the photographer to snap the camera. His body position is so inviting and delicious that Elle wants to curl her tiny body around him. Elle sighs inwardly to herself, strange feelings that she cannot identify flood throughout her entire being.

Dark brown eyes interlock with blue. They stay staring at each other in silence. Seconds, minutes, hours tick by. Time is of no importance.

When you gaze too long into the abyss, the abyss also gazes back.

Her beast recognizes the familiar monster lurking beneath the brown eyes. Eyes are the window to the soul. Elle's not sure if she believes in a soul. If she had one, her soul would probably burn in hell for a million years. The thought of pain and suffering doesn't frighten her, though Elle is afraid of nothing. If you can't feel anything, do you even have a soul? Doesn't matter either way, if there is a hell - pain and suffering is just one of her versions of foreplay. Elle doesn't feel bad or guilty for who she is. A leopard cannot change its spots. She has no scruples, no compassion or ability to empathize with the feelings of others; instead she is self-seeking and ruthless--- without conscience. Right and wrong, good and evil, Elle does not care about such trivial things. If she burns for all eternity, at least she knows for sure that she'll have company. But Elle isn't concerned about the future or life after death. Her existence is all about the here and now. Fulfilling immediate, primal needs. And right now, she's thoroughly enjoying the special connection she's sharing with her favorite serial killer.

They silently acknowledge one another, their bodies unnaturally frozen in a stillness that only an immortal possesses. At the same time, however, there is a sense of evaluation. Sizing up the other. The hierarchy of power and dominance is still wavering and unclear between the two predators.

What Elle does know very clearly is that she intoxicated by his very presence. He was like her own personal drug. Her eyes become glazed over, she's still looking at him but no longer truly seeing him. She's back in her inner world, violent thoughts and images of flesh and blood flash within her mind. Energy hums throughout her body with feral anticipation and need. Elle fantasizes all the various scenarios of how she's going to take him.

The monster waits anxiously, hungrily, for her to do it.

She feels a surprisingly familiar urge to storm over and roughly slam him against the wall. Imagines the pleasure from hearing the sound of his grunt at the impact. She has such as strong need to lace her fingers through his thick brown hair, push her face against his neck and nuzzle. Breathe deep and long so that she can fully take in and memorize his scent. Elle needs to taste his skin gently with her tongue, and then bring her teeth down sharply, marking him as her own. To claim to the world - he's mine. Though the idea of his teeth against her soft, smooth skin sends a thrill down her spine. The thought snaps her back to reality.

"Hey, you." Elle finally breaks the silence, voice husky, meant only for dark and intimate places. "Wanna play?"

The smile came, a soft curl of lips. The serpent must have smiled at Eve like that. I have this nice, shiny apple for you. She imagines taking the apple from him with reverence. The apple tastes delicious, flavorful and full of texture. The kind that has a fun crunch and sticky juice that runs down your chin. Thirst burns through her throat like fire. Elle wants to sink her teeth in.

"From the looks of it, you've already played." His voice is deep and powerful, like booming thunder in the eye of the storm. Elle picks up on a tinge of jealously underneath.

"Oh, this little mess." Elle glances down to inspect her appearance. Her blonde curly hair is pulled back into a relaxed side pony tail set in place with a thick piece of black leather. She's wearing a light gray sheer dress that barely reaches below her waist. The garment slips over liquid tight black leather boots. The boots go so high that the top lightly brushes against her most delicate parts when she moves. It was both painful and pleasurable at the same time - just the way she likes it. Elle guesses that the blood splattered across her dress and porcelain white skin perfectly matches the color of her crimson lipstick, completing the outfit.

"The guards were either very brave, or very stupid. Though I think sometimes bravery and stupidity are almost interchangeable. Don't-cha think?" She giggles.

Sylar suddenly moves his body into a seated position. From an ordinary perspective, a normal would be amazed by his graceful and liquid movements, smooth like a large cat. But Elle is not most people. She picks up on the slightest hesitations and tension creased on his face- that indicate soreness and pain. The large tiger doesn't want to reveal that he's broken. His complexion is ghostly white, dark circles under his eyes. The damaging effects of being pumped full of drugs, forced through rigorous tests, and tortured. Even in such a state, he is still beautiful. God-like.

"They say that you're the big, bad boogieman. Stories of heads cut off and brains are scaring all of the little specials in their sleep." Elle licks her lips and gently glides her fingers slowly and seductively across the glass. "Now what I can't figure out -- is how does the meanest son of a bitch get captured and locked up?"

"Just lucky, I guess."

Elle wasn't sure if he was trying not to laugh, or not to frown. Maybe both. She affected a lot of people that way.

"Well, now that I've gotten the guards out of the way and the security cameras are playing a fun game on the agents, we're going to finally get some uninterrupted quality time together."

This is the moment she's been waiting for. The beast smiles contently within her dark consciousness as she swipes her Company card on the door's lock. The security box flashes and beeps at her. Elle raises an eye brow and tries to open the door again. The box beeps a second time.

"NO!!!!" Elle screams.

The worst thing about finally putting together a large, complex puzzle is finding there are missing pieces.

This is absolutely, without a doubt, the worst moment in Elle's life.

Elle releases a blast of electricity from every inch of her body towards the door. Throws more energy at it then she ever has before. The barrier doesn't falter, not even a mark. As if the higher ups has expected this. God damn pre-cogs. The intense outburst of power has torn apart and burnt her clothes, revealing matching black lacy undergarments. The tips of her hair are blackened. Smoke steams off of her body- she probably will have the smell of burning on her skin for weeks.

Elle hits her hands against the metal door, willing it to bust open with force. Throws her weight to the punches, clawing in a feral rage. Pounds over and over and over until her tiny fists are bruised and bleeding.

"No, no, no...." She mumbles softly to herself. Elle slumps against the door, head between her legs. Sweat is trickling down her spine from the exertion of energy.

Defeat and failure are unacceptable. Elle takes a deep breath and counts slowly to five. She doesn't have the patience for ten. Elle to bounce back onto her feet. The beast begins pacing in front of his cell, her heels clicking fast and dangerous against the concrete. She has a little circuit mapped out that she follows mindlessly.

Elle is back in her inner world, muttering out loud a stream of dark consciousness. "He's mine. Mine. He belongs to me. They can't stop me. I'm going to kill them all. Every last one of them. They think they can control me. Keep him from me. Fry their brains so hot, roast their insides, microwave them until they pop. Blood everywhere. I want them to pay. Fucking Andrews, if he was still alive I'd turn him to dust. Daddy and Bennet are behind this. I know it. They are going to pay so dearly. I'm going to rip them into tiny pieces with my bare hands…."

Sylar watches Elle with such intensity, like she is the center of his world.

"You know that you've walked past the window twenty times. And that's just when I started counting."

"Shut up."

He smirks, knows how to hit her buttons. "You're just angry because you can't get what you want. Daddy won't let you play."

Elle creates a vibrant ball of sparkling power in her hands. A trail of dangerous blue electricity follows her track as she paces. "Maybe they are afraid that I'll tear you apart. Destroy you before you can be of any use to them. Make you into a blacken husk of ashes."

Elle's little display of threats doesn't seem to phase Sylar. In the land of predators, the lion never fears the fox.

"I hear the way the other prisoners and agents talk about you." He says softly, stopping her in her tracks.

Paranoid thoughts are burning to overflow her psyche. "And what exactly do they say?"

"That you're dangerous." His voice is raw. "A sociopath."

"Yep, that sounds about right." She smiles widely, flashing all of her pearly white teeth. "And you're a psychopathic serial killer. A monster. The stuff of nightmares."

Sylar laughs full out. The laugh is like candy, sweet and infectious. If Elle could bottle up Sylar's laugh, she knows it would be fattening. Or orgasmic.

Elle's eyes roam over Sylar. "Most women complain that there are no single, straight men left. I'd just like to meet one who's human."

"You aren't human, any more than I am, my little electric firefly." His eyes sparkle.

Elle frowns at his comment. "Can the pet names, Gray. You don't know a thing about me."

"Please. You know nothing about you, Elle." Sylar sighs, sadness and irritation apparent in both his face and voice. Unlike Elle, Sylar seemed to be ruled by his ever changing and usually conflicting emotions. While Elle's existence seemed to be a bottomless void, Sylar's is overflowing with heightened emotional states. They were polar opposites, sitting on the extremes ends of the spectrum.

Elle wasn't quite ready to admit out loud being manipulated and controlled, can't show weakness to the big bad predator in front of her. So she changes the subject instead.

"What am I going to do with you now?"

His lips twitch to a smile. "I have a list, but I left it in my other pants."

Elle raises an eyebrow. She sighs with annoyance and then puts on her fake cheerful voice. "Oh well, looks like my Company card expired. That's what I get for overspending! Daddy always said I was greedy, warned me about too much intimate time with the other prisoners. Guess that means I get cut off from you. It doesn't really matter. I'm starting to grow bored of you anyways."

"You were always a bad liar."

Lying is like breathing to a sociopath. When caught in a lie and challenged, Elle usually makes up new lies and doesn't care if she's found out. Lying, deceiving, and manipulation are part of her special talents. With his remark, Elle is not perplexed or embarrassed. She merely shrugs indifferently at his comment.

She puts on her bubbly and childish mask, her voice sing-songy. "Don't want you anyways. Useless to me since Bennet has already broken you. Pathetic, damaged goods." Elle places her hands on her hips and playfully sticks out her tongue at Sylar.

"Stop." Sylar lashes out, his voice cuts like sharp daggers.

Elle softly whimpers immediately, her knees feel weak. She avoids eye contact and feels the urge to abase herself in the face of such power. Tail between her legs, begging for forgiveness. Elle manages to stand her ground…barely. She glances up cautiously after a few moments of silence.

His face extremely serious, but his voice holds both longing and anger. "You don't have to pretend. Put on that act with me."

"What are you babbling about?"

"Elle…" His voice holds warning.

"Fine. If you insist." Elle listens to his orders, her mask gone and face emotionless. Her voice is cold, empty...reflecting her true existence. "There. Are you happy now?"

Silence. And then finally, a response. "No….not really."

Elle rolls her eyes. Decides to shift the power dynamics, gain control - by bruising his inflated ego. Her voice is dark and deep. "Pretty pitiful attempt at escaping this morning. You're going to be here- for-ever. Only way you're going to leave this facility is through a plastic - black - body bag. Deader than a snowman in July. And I mean TV movie of the week, CNN all day coverage kinda dead. I'd be happy to put you in a body bag myself, but I have more important things to worry about."

Sylar looks as if he is considering her remarks thoughtfully, the gears ticking within his mind.

Suddenly, Elle hears commotion at the end of the hallway. The agents have figured out the she's interacting with Sylar.

"Looks like our play time has ended." She sighs. "I almost had you."

"Almost doesn't count." He whispers back.

Elle smiles widely, the cheerful mask firmly back in place. Blows him a playful kiss. "Bye bye, butterfly."

Elle skips off humming a tune to a song that is painfully familiar to Sylar. He smiles in response to the sounds of the agents' screams. Watches with reverence as the kitten finds temporary satisfaction in massacring the suits, the smell of burning flesh and blood fills the hall. Elle shows Sylar what he's missing out on.

Epilogue

Elle isn't surprised that Sylar took her advice. Literally. Died and came back to life. Like a modern day god. But Elle is stunned to learn that he ran off to be with someone else. Well, not exactly in the romantic sense. He tried to overpower the Cheerleader a second time, only to be stopped again by the Haitian and Bennet. The thought of him fixated on that silly pathetic Pom Pom brings foreign sensations through her body, making her tense and on-edge.

Elle prides herself on always getting what she wants. But Sylar is the only one that got away from her clutches. She is antsy because she never truly got her release. All that buildup and no orgasm. Maybe if Elle had gotten her hands on him in the very beginning, she wouldn't have given him a second thought. But deep down, Elle knows that he's not like the others. He's different, special. It takes weeks before Elle realizes that she's suffering from her first experience of a crush.

He's killing again, stealing powers from the weak and unworthy. The Company continues to put full force into pursing Sylar, though they are keeping Elle in the dark per usual. Some days Elle has the urge to leave the Company, track him down, and demand answers. He is the key to unlocking the secrets, stolen memories. Perhaps she could join him in his slaughtering. Be free to be who she truly is. Though Elle is unclear of the power dynamics between the two of them. Like alpha predators, they could either mate for life or fight to the death when they finally come face to face. Plus, the idea of wandering out into that wild, confusing world holds her captive at the Company. The Company is her… home. Though there is that saying - home is where the heart is. But where do you go when you don't have a heart?

Now that Sylar is gone, Elle is back to her regular routine. Unfortunately, the normally satisfying schedule is not as fulfilling as before. Instead, she is distracted, he fills her consciousness with tremendous need and longing during the day. When Elle closes her eyes, he haunts her dreams with passion and pain. Elle wakes up in the middle of the night panting and in cold sweat, body aching to be touched. Other nights she wakes up in a near panicked state feeling powerless, clutching her stomach- swears she can hear the echoes of a baby crying out in the darkness. She's not a fan of those particular nightmares.

Daddy must of sensed a change in Elle. So he gave her a new assignment to keep her occupied, controlled. Track down and apprehend pretty Peter Petrelli. Apparently, Daddy believes that the Petrelli's youngest son is extremely dangerous and unknowingly part of some diabolical inner Company scheme that Elle is assigned to unravel. The case helps keep Sylar off her mind…at least during the day.

Elle's life is a careful balance of chaos and order. Elle fills up that void, that cold emptiness with pain, blood, and death. The rules, structure, and routine help control the darkness. Shower. Coffee. Paperwork. Morning victim. Lunch. Meeting with Daddy. Hand out pills. Research potential specials. Dinner. Post dinner victim. Sleep. Just another day on the job.

~ Fin. ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I know, I know, I'm a tease. SO MUCH anticipation of Elle and Sylar finally meeting up. And I threw in the twist of Elle getting locked out. But, I like the idea of Elle struggling with not getting exactly what she wants. Thoughts/reactions to how this played out?
> 
> Oh, and this is not the end of the story. I'll post the sequel soon--- it will focus on Elle's adventures as well as her reflections/interactions with our favorite serial killer during Volume 2. Expect to see exploration of the aftermath of the Season 1 finale - How to Stop an Exploding Man… Elle capturing Peter, Sylar in surgery at the Company after getting stabbed by Hiro, Elle vs. Candice, and much much more! ;)


End file.
